


Deep Blu

by aleria



Series: Hearthstone AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hearthstone - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Secret Identity, is that a tag even, please stand by, what am I even getting into, youtube/twitch au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleria/pseuds/aleria
Summary: How pathetic is it to have a crush on a guy on the internet who he has never even seen a picture of before?Keith's got a crush on a streamer, but fills his days at work watching some eye candy in the office next door.





	1. Chapter 1

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/151783652@N06/37379111311/in/dateposted-public/)

Keith wakes up at 2am to the soft hum of his phone. His alarm isn’t due until 7am, which is pretty good for someone his age and he is thankful that he gets to sleep in most days. But his phone is set only to vibrate for very specific alerts, and he sleeps light. He reaches for it, almost knocking over his lamp and definitely disturbing his cat.

**Deep_blu just went live on Twitch**

His heart immediately leaps at the name. He wouldn’t get out of bed for anything else, he realizes guiltily. But he keeps missing Deep_blu’s streams and damn it if he’ll miss it again tonight. Luckily he left his laptop haphazardly on the far side of his bed. He has a queen: it was the first thing he bought when he got his job at Altean Games. He props himself up and sets up the laptop on his knees. For the sake of his neighbours, he fishes the headphones that are hiding somewhere under the bed, almost falling over in the an attempt to stay under the covers. 

It takes a minute for the stream to load, but he can already see the chat window. Only 25 other viewers have started to tune in. That number will double in the next few minutes, and be overwhelming by the end of the stream. It’s a lot more streamers than Keith has ever had.

Deep_blu plays Hearthstone, like Keith does. He found him a month ago on Youtube, and his videos are hilarious. Deep_blu uses these stupid voices and has comedic timing like no other. Deep_blu is one of the few channel’s Keith is subscribed to, besides DIY and martial art channels. They are the only videos that make him laugh.

Keith was there when Deep_blu started streaming live, in fact, he was one of his first subscribers. In the beginning there were only a few others in the channel, chatting about Hearthstone decks or making stupid meme jokes. Since then his popularity has exploded.

And no wonder. Deep_blu is a charming person. He chats easily with viewers and is interesting to listen to even when he isn’t interacting. He has an ability to talk non-stop if necessary, but somehow he doesn’t come off as obnoxious-- at least, not to Keith. It helps, because no one knows what Deep_blu looks like.

The stream shows a little icon of a majestic blue lion in the corner, and the rest is given over to the game. He is testing a new deck-- a meme deck if ever there was one. It is not going to win, but it is hilarious to watch him try. 

“ _Oh my god,_ ” Deep_blu is saying when the video loads. “ _He’s playing to crush my soul. Please, someone tell him this isn’t a serious deck_.” He’s losing, and Keith feels himself grinning. Watching Deep_blu lose is almost as fun as watching him win.

He types into chat: 

**Keefer_K: you suck, fam**

“ _Aww, come on, Keefer, don’t be like that_.”

**Keefer_K: play better then**

Deep_blu laughs and the sound fills Keith’s stomach with butterflies. He can’t help it: this guy has the best laugh he has ever heard. A few other of the viewers make similar comments, or even defend Deep_blu but Keith just replies in emoticons. It’s par for the course on these streams-- it's a miracle if even half of the comments are intelligible. But it’s a place where Keith feels comfortable. He does a lot better online than he does in real life. 

Deep_blu only streams for an hour, because he claims he has work in the morning. Keith calls him pathetic, but he adds a heart at the end. Doing so makes him feel a bit warm in the face, but the comment is buried under a flood of other viewers saying ‘goodnight’.

When the stream is over, Keith closes the laptop and stares at the dark ceiling. His heart is beating fast, but he knows he’s being stupid. How pathetic is it to have a crush on a guy on the internet who he has never even seen a picture of before? He tells himself he’s just a big fan, and that it's no different than liking an actor or a character in a TV show. But those people don’t reply to him and laugh at his bad attempts at flirting. That’s why he’s being done in by a voice on the internet. 

Keith wakes up 4 hours later and _hates_ that he has a job. He should feel grateful, really, because he’s the only one of his peers that is employed so gainfully. At 21, he is fresh out of college and working for more money than he knows what to do with. But he’s too young to really appreciate it, so he grumbles about having to roll out of bed.

He is on his third coffee of the morning when Shiro shows up, as he always does at some point. Keith doesn’t mind-- he likes Shiro. In fact, he was his first real crush before he was turned down when they were both in school together. Shiro is tall and dark and built like an olympic athlete, but he is also very straight. After an awkward confession, their relationship relaxed into a healthy friendship. Shiro graduated two years before Keith and managed to get a job with Altean Games. He’s a project coordinator, which seems like such a generic title but he really does coordinate everything. Nothing would be done on time without him. He brought on Keith when he graduated, and Keith’s been relying on him ever since.

“You look terrible,” Shiro says, which is even more annoying because _he_ looks great. Keith grunts an unintelligible response and continues to scroll through his morning emails. He isn’t ready to start the actual work. “Up late?”

“You say that like I have any semblance of a social life,” Keith says grumpily. It’s true-- he hasn’t been out for months. When he isn’t falling head first into a gaming-related crush, he does taekwondo and jujitsu, but he doesn’t even socialize with the other students at his dojo. 

“Mm-hmm,” Shiro says knowingly. Keith wants to strangle him. “Up late watching Hearthstone?”

Shiro knows him too well, Keith decides. He would need to murder him sometime soon. 

“That guy was streaming last night-- I got the notification this morning. What’s his name?” Keith glares at Shiro as he says this because he _knows_ the name and he’s just being a smarmy jerk. “‘Deep-red’ or something?”

Great, even talking about the guy makes Keith want to blush. Instead he throws his a pencil at his senior. “Oh, go get me a coffee,” he says but he isn’t really mad. At least Shiro seems to understand. 

Shiro turns to leave, laughing. “Just don’t forget the meeting this afternoon. Allura wants to see your new character designs.”

Right, work. Keith turns back to his computer, which has run out of emails to read. So instead he opens the tab that he never closes, even at night when he leaves the office. He’s been drawing the same characters for what seems like years, and he’s still unhappy with them. He sighs, and allows his gaze to move just past the two flatscreens on his desk. 

He shares his office with two other desks. It isn’t a small space and each desk faces a wall. The most senior designer is an old guy named Coran who still does most of his drawings on paper. He faces the floor to ceiling window because he has been here the longest. The other faces a solid wall-- a girl named Ezor who is the same age as Keith and doesn’t seem to understand how the hell she managed to land this job. She’s talented, though, and spends more time freaking out than she really ought to.

Keith’s desk faces a wall of windows that looks across the hallway into another office that also has a wall like his own. Over there are the writers and apparently they can’t write unless they are pacing the room or waving their arms around wildly. Keith likes to watch them when he can’t think of what to draw. They make for good inspiration.

Especially _that one_. Keith had to admit he doesn’t know much about the writers, but he has his eye on the young one with the long legs. He’s very animated and laughs easily. He’s never alone, either, and has a constant stream of people coming by his desk to consult with him. Keith has been watching a girl from marketing trying to flirt with him for two weeks straight, and he can’t decide if she’s making any progress. The writer is cute-- handsome, even. He’s got a dark complexion with effortless hair and a wide smile. 

The writer is obviously telling his office mates a story about his weekend and they are all laughing. Keith smiles secretly, and makes a small amendment to his current character design, giving him a wide, self-assured smirk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i had so much fun writing this
> 
> you don't need to really understand Hearthstone for this, but feel free to ask me questions~

Keith inspects the video of himself. It’s like looking at a reverse mirror, only everyone will be able to see it and not just himself. He finds himself flattening his bangs and testing different angles but in the end he reminds himself that he would have, at max, 30 people watching him. Most of those won’t take a second glance at his picture, since he isn’t a girl anyway. 

He has to admit the online world of gaming is pretty caustic. It’s too easy for people to be assholes online and this is why Keith has never admitted to being gay. A few people have asked him, but he’s shrugged off the question. 

**Nano219: Good evening Keeeeef~**

Nano219 is one of Keith’s few subscribers, and really, he can’t complain. Subscriptions equal real money in the bank and Nano’s been with him since the beginning. He had been the first one to ask him if he was gay. In private, of course. Keith tries not to scoff at the guy because that would make him a hypocrite. Besides, it's sort of nice to have someone casually hitting on you from time to time.

“Hey, guys,” Keith says quietly, because even though he lives alone, he doesn’t want to have his voice floating out of the open window. “I think I’m going to play arena tonight. I hear the new meta is druid but you know how I feel about that class.”

**cat4dogs: just stack bonemare, ez win**

**Nano219: AGRO DRUID because I know you want to Keef ;3**

Keith grins. It’s almost like having friends only he doesn’t have to pretend like he isn’t a giant nerd while talking to them. And here, he’s really good at something. OK, Keith takes pride in being good at whatever he does, but he’s _really_ good at Hearthstone. This is probably why he has any subscribers at all, besides Nano.

He’s up to 28 viewers by the time he finishes drafting a deck. There’s a reliable stream of comments on the chat window, popping up in a multitude of colours. He replies when he has to but mainly focuses on the game. He doesn’t have the ability to narrate non-stop like Deep_blu.

Keith wins his first game easily. There are plenty of other players online at this time at night, and many of them have no idea how to play arena. Far from feeling smug, Keith is having fun: he likes the numbers and the strategies of the game. It’s just the right balance for him, without having to concentrate too much. He has a small, quiet streak of competitiveness that drives him to do his best, but he saves that for when he does ranked matches. 

Half way through the second match, and Keith is feeling good about this deck. He might get to 8 or 9 wins if he plays properly. The chat is yelling at him to make moves that he generally ignores. His eyes flit occasionally to the viewer count, but it stays steadily in the high twenties. 

Until the number shoots up to 500, and he wonders what he did wrong. Suddenly his chat is flooding faster than he can read it and he is blinking in surprise. 

**Sieruk: BLUE INVASION**

**canistakahari: WE RE HERE**

Shit, Keith thinks, realizing what has happened. Someone with a much higher view count has decided to start hosting him. All of their viewers are suddenly tuning in to Keith’s stream and he struggles not to let the pressure stop him from playing his turn. 

“Uh, hey everyone,” Keith says nervously. He wants to remain cool and controlled, but his heart is beating too fast. “Welcome to my garbage stream…?” He can’t keep up with the comments, so he looks at the top of the chat window where it tells him which user started to host him.

**Deep_blu is now hosting you for 592 viewers.**

Keith ducks away from the camera because he is literally _sputtering_. He takes off his headset and leans on his knees. His cat is watching him quizzically. He wonders if he had a heart attack and presses a hand to his chest. Nope, still alive. He turns back to the screen to see that it is his turn in the game. 

“Sorry, choking on my drink.” The chat fills with people telling him that he ‘fails’ but Keith is only looking for one user’s name. Deep_blu has to say something eventually, right?

**Deep_blu: I see you**

Keith allows himself to smile, because he is deeply, deeply happy right now. “Ug, not you,” he says playfully. It is so much easier to tease than to be nice. Keith doesn’t do _nice_.

**Deep_blu: OK everyone, this guy hates me, let’s go**

“Afraid you’ll lose all your viewers to me, Blue?” It feels weird saying the username outloud. Keith shivers with pleasure.

 

**Deep_blu: keep playing shitty turns like that and i think i’ll be fine**

It’s true: Keith has misplayed, but it doesn’t mean he’ll lose the match. He is still grinning, because this banter is so fucking fun. He’s glowing, and he hopes the dim lighting doesn’t show it on camera. 

He wins the match, and the next one. He is 3 wins to 0 losses, and he thanks the gods of Hearthstone that he is doing so well in front of Deep_blu. Now Keith does feel smug, because he’s feeling a little sense of rivalry with this guy. Or maybe he just wants to show off.

**Deep_blu: shit guy, yur actually good**

**Nano219: Keef is best ;P**

Keith loses the next game, because it was bound to happen eventually. He can lose up to 3 times in arena, and will always be matched up with someone with the same win-loss ratio as him. Losing one game means he doesn’t get matched up with the other people with win streaks. Because of this, he wins the following game.

**Nano219: GO FOR 12 BABY**

Deep_blu chats sparingly, but Keith’s heart leaps each time he does, even if it is only an emoticon. He can’t get over the fact that Deep_blu is actually watching him play. He is going to save this video, because this will probably never happen again.

Keith ends up with 9 wins, and 12 more followers on his channel. Deep_blu is one of them, and Keith finds himself gazing at his icon in his list of followers for a long time. He doubts Deep_blu will ever tune in again, but at least he will get a little notification whenever he Keith goes online. His stomach does somersaults thinking about it.

“I think that’s all, guys,” Keith says as evenly as he can. He still isn’t used to addressing such a large audience. “Maybe another arena tomorrow.” A surge of comments saying ‘good night’ or spamming nonsense follows. Two private messages pop up.

**Nano219: Goodngiht sweetie ;)**

**Deep_blu: hey**

Keith stared at the second message, forgetting that he was still live streaming. After a moment of not breathing, he quickly alt-tabs to his streaming software and shuts it off. Then he looks back at the message, which has changed.

**Deep_blu: I suck at arena**

Oh, sweet sweet small talk. Keith feels like melting into a puddle. Without the camera watching him, he allows a stupid grin to spread over his face.

**Keefer_K: you need an expert, obviously**

**Deep_blu: haha i need intervention**

**Keefer_K: yeah you suck, lol**

**Deep_blu: im streaming on wed  
can you come help??**

Keith is blushing too much to reply right away. He covers his face and moans into his hands. Why does such a simple request reduce him to this?

**Keefer_K: ug, sure**

**Deep_blu: thanks bb! <3**

**Keefer_K: no prob**

Keith slams the streaming window closed because keeping it open any longer is going to make blood erupted from all of his orifices. He shuts his whole computer down for good measure and spends an unknown amount of time sitting in the semi darkness, listening to his own heartbeat.

It’s possible that this is the best day of his life.


	3. Chapter 3

Keith needs to possibly work on this whole sleeping thing. His schedule is so messed up but he doesn’t even care. The next day at work is amazing. He doesn’t even snap at Coran when he comes into work singing. Keith could sing, is he had a little less self respect.

“Ok, what happened?” asks Shiro, because he isn’t satisfied with Keith doing him a favour apparently. Keith puts down the stack of magazines that were waiting for Shiro at the front counter and returns to his regular scowl.

“Everything’s fine,” Keith says slowly. Shiro raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve been smiling all morning, Keith,” he says accusingly. “Everything isn’t _fine_.”

Keith rolls his eyes, feeling, more than ever, like Shiro is a big brother. “Am I not allowed to have a good day?”

“Let me guess.”

“Please don’t.” Because Shiro was likely to hit it right on the nose.

“Your favourite streamer has finally shown his face.”

“Hah! Nope!” Keith says triumphantly. Suddenly he is bursting to tell Shiro about what happened last night. But then their boss walks in, and Keith feels his back straighten immediately. She’s not very old, maybe a few years his senior, but she’s damned intimidating. Even Shiro harbours a small fear of her.

“Good morning, boys,” says Allura. She is wearing a crisp white work suit with a knee-length skirt and pale pink heels. The effect is very flattering on her dark skin. “I hope you get your work done by tonight.”

Keith swallows because he’s not sure what she is talking about. Did he forget about a deadline? He looks at Shiro quickly, trying not to show how afraid he was. But Shiro is smirking.

“The party,” he supplies, and Keith immediately relaxes. He had forgotten about the office party tonight-- they were celebrating the success of last year’s project. The company was treating the whole team to dinner and drinks at a local sushi restaurant. 

“I have a designer visiting from Canada who wants to meet you, Keith,” Allura says while looking over one of the magazines from Shiro’s desk. She has this uncanny ability to read and speak at the same time. Keith decides, as he has before, that she isn’t entirely human.

“Tonight?” Keith feels a tug at his mind, reminding him that he wanted to stream tonight. He would have to go to the party, of course. He could stream any night. But what if Deep_blu was waiting for him to come online? He makes a mental note to download the twitch app on his phone, just in case he misses any messages. “I’ll be there,” he says finally. 

Keith isn’t a big fan of parties, but he is a big fan of sushi. In the very least he was going to bill the shit out of the company for as much salmon sashimi as he could possibly eat. For that, he would even submit to meeting whoever Allura wanted to introduce him to.

Altean Games isn’t a small company. The last big game they released did well in international markets. It is a turn based RPG, like so many others, but the graphics are above average and Keith prides himself in his contribution to character design. It had been his first ever project and he had gone all in. The only draw back was that now the bar was set high and he is struggling to keep up.

The sushi bar is packed when Keith and Shiro arrive. Keith hasn’t changed since work: he’s still wearing a button-up shirt and jeans, as is the acceptable dress code for designers. His shoulder bag is heavy with his laptop and he wonders if he should have at least combed his hair.

Allura intercepts them at the door, and hands something to Keith in a bag. “Put this on,” she instructs. Keith frowns at the bag, but discovers that there is a tailored suit jacket inside. She has another one for Shiro. “I swear, you two need mothers.” Keith marvels at her ability to microtask even at an afterwork party. 

The jacket fits so well that Keith finds himself worrying about how old Earth Allura managed to get his measurements. It’s surprisingly flattering over his work clothes and he has to hand it to her for knowing how to quickly and simply turn him from work-Keith to party-Keith. It won’t improve his attitude, but at least he won’t look so out of place. 

Shiro is sitting squished between his seniors, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. They like to talk about him like he’s their son and heir while he gets overwhelmed by the compliments. There’s no room for Keith there, so he scans the room for another safe place to be.

Ezor is sitting with a few of the interns, and Keith knows if he sits there he is going to have to socialize. But there’s nowhere else to go and he really wants sushi, so he pushes past the groups of people too boisterous to sit down and finds a spot on a bench with his back to the wall.

“Hey Keith!” Ezor says with enthusiasm. She only has two settings: jubilant, or deeply anxious. Tonight she is the former, and her peppiness is almost too much for Keith to handle. “You know Pidge and Hunk, right?”

“Yeah, hey,” he says without much enthusiasm. It isn’t that he doesn’t like the interns, but he always feels like he’s being sucked into a group camaraderie that he isn’t ready for. They are friendly and nice and always want to include him in their shenanigans when all he wants is to sequester himself at home and play video games.

“I can’t believe they invited us!” Hunk is saying. “I am so hungry. I hope there’s no limit to the tab!” He’s a big guy who is interning for the writing team, and he is nothing if not open and friendly.

“I hope there’s something _cooked_ on the menu,” mutters Pidge. She’s a girl, so far as Keith can tell, short and skinny and kind of cute if he was into girls. She has a glare that could cut a man in half and is wickedly smart. Far from interning, she practically runs the software team. She’ll have the job before the fiscal year is out.

“Just give me all the raw fish,” Hunk goes on, eyes sparkling. “Just funnel it into my mouth.”

Keith agrees, because he’s hungry all of a sudden. When the food comes, it is in the form of giant boats of sushi that no one had to order. It means that Pidge spends a lot of time picking through the rolls and questioning everything, while the other three lay into the platter without reserve.

They are allowed to buy drinks too, which Ezor orders with gusto. She somehow convinces Keith to share a pitcher of Sapporo with her and he knows he is going to regret it. How many people were going to come into work late tomorrow?

But Keith is actually starting to have fun. Hunk and Pidge have a dynamic that apparently goes back to when they went to school together. They seem to hate and love each other at the same time, like siblings. Ezor is the sort that gets along with everyone indiscriminately, and Keith can’t hate her for it. The food is good and the beer is easy to drink. Keith only ends up checking his phone three times, and all three times there are no new messages.

It’s loud in here, because the old guys a few tables over have started to sing. Keith can see Shiro cringing visibly, but he’s smiling too. His line of sight is blocked by someone walking towards their table, and Keith feels a little jump in his stomach.

“Huuuuunk!” It’s the writer from the next office over: the tall one with the nice legs. He’s wearing a grey henley top that is unbuttoned and fitted jeans that flatter his figure. Keith bites his lip and reminds himself that there is no window between them this time. The writer slides into a chair perpendicular to Keith and Hunk.

“Lance, where the hell have you been all night?” Hunk asks, and he slurs a little. They have all been drinking. “I missed you!”

“Aww, my buddy!” the writer says, and Keith savours his name. It’s a fucking terrible name but he’s going to remember it the next time he is checking him out from his desk. “Pidge, why aren’t you consoling him?”

“Because I hate him,” Pidge says which makes Hunk whine and Lance laugh. It’s hard to hear, but Keith imagines it's a good laugh. 

“Lance, this is Keith and Ezor,” Hunk provides, flourishing a hand as if presenting a pair of racehorses. “Design team.”

“Oh, I know,” Lance says and he leans back on the chair with an air of relaxed confidence. “They work across from us, remember?”

Ezor is giggling, but Keith isn’t sure if Lance can hear her. “I’ve seen you too!” She has to lean over the table of sushi carcasses to say this. Lance leans forward too, and Keith backs up quickly because suddenly the guy is right in his personal space. “And Keith’s desk practically stares at you all day.”

Keith wills himself not to blush, because the statement is so close to the truth. “You guys look like you just slack off all day.”

“Hey now!” Lance says with a hurt tone. “We are geniuses at work. Without us, the game would fall flat.”

“You mean, without the design team,” Keith retorts. This is about his level of socializing: friendly rivalry. Lance is grinning, so apparently he is OK with it too. 

Lance stays for the next few drinks, one round of which ends up being shots. Keith regrets drinking the cold sake almost as soon as it is in his mouth but he isn’t about to let anyone else out-drink him. He’s feeling competitive, but that’s probably because he’s also feeling drunk. At some point Lance has joined him on the bench, and is draping an arm over the back of the seat.

“Why don’t we know each other?” he’s asking loudly over the din of the restaurant. “I see you almost every day but we never talk.”

“I don’t talk much,” Keith admits, and he has to talk loudly too. “And I don’t have anything that would be interesting to writers.”

Lance waves a hand. “I’m interested in everything you guys do. It’s all alien to me. Let me see what you are working on tomorrow, will you?”

“If you make it to work tomorrow.” Keith smirks to show he is making fun of the writer. Lance laughs and throws up his arms in defeat, which makes Keith laugh too. 

“You’re pretty cute though, huh?” says Lance, and it is impossible to tell if he is joking or not. Keith feels the colour fill his cheeks and he fights through the haze of alcohol to make sense of it. 

“Whatever,” he says with a small dismissive wave.

“No, really, I think that girl is checking you out.” Lance points to a girl near the bar at the centre of the restaurant. It is the one who has been visiting Lance’s desk for two weeks and she is definitely looking in their direction.

“I don’t think she’s looking at me, man,” Keith says.

“Well, it’s not me because she just told me ‘it isn’t going to work out’.” If Lance is upset about the comment, he doesn’t show it on his face. He is still relaxed with an arm on the bench behind Keith’s back. “Apparently I am too much of a nerd.”

“What? Seriously? We work for a video game company.”

“I know right! I am a diamond in the rough in this place!” Lance puts on a pout that looks forced, but also looks adorable.

“I’m sure she loves your sense of humility,” Keith says accusingly.

“Ug, who cares about false modesty?” Lance says. “I know I’m amazing.”

Keith laughs loudly, and so does Pidge who is leaning in to listen. “Lance, you are terrible,” she says without a hint of remorse. Lance overplays his offense, and they are all laughing again. 

Keith isn’t sure how he gets home, but Lance is with him when he stumbles out of the taxi. They bid each other goodnight, though he can’t remember the exact words. He struggles to remember his floor number, drops his keys in the hallway trying to unlock his door, and trips over the cat in the darkness. 

It’s the first time he doesn’t check his phone before falling into bed.


	4. Chapter 4

If Keith thought getting up after a no sleep is hard, then waking up to a 7 am alarm after drinking is fucking impossible. He wants to smash his phone, but he's too tired. The cat is yelling at him, too. He probably forgot to feed him yesterday. 

Keith has to call in sick, he realizes. There is no way he can work today. Who the hell schedules a work party on a Tuesday night, anyway? He reaches again for his phone, silently apologizing for threatening to smash it moments before. 

He has about a thousand notifications and just about drops his phone again. Instead, he unlocks it with a swipe and discovers that several of them are messages from a number he doesn't recognize. Upon opening them he learns that someone gave Hunk his number and Hunk thought it would be a good idea to message him repeatedly to ask if he got home alright. There's also a message from the writer. His name is Lance and Keith remembers thinking it was a stupid name (it still is). Lance’s messages are confusing and seem to be asking Keith if wanted a slice of his pizza. 

There are also notifications from his Twitch app which makes him sit up in bed. He taps the icon none too gently, his heart racing. They are private messages. 

**Deep_blu: why arnt you streeeeeaaminnng? ?**

**Whyyyyy**

**You promisedman**

****

Keith’s stomach does an uncomfortable flip, which is made worse by his hangover. He is flushing, which sort of makes him forget the headache. It won't stop him from calling in sick, of course. He replies to the messages first. 

**Keefer_k: wtf you drunk or something?**

He doesn't expect a reply right away, since the messages came in at 2 in the morning. But he rereads them several times before finally calling into work. 

“Shiro, heeeyyy.” Keith hates how guilty he sounds. His voice is deep and raspy, to boot.

“ _Not you too,_ ” Shiro sighs. 

“I'm sorry, please blame it on Ezor and Hunk,” Keith says, almost whining. 

“ _And Lance. I saw they finally introduced you to him. How did that go?”_

“He looks even better in person. Straight, though.”

Shiro sighs over the phone. “ _Sorry, man. At least you still have that online guy._ ”

Keith can feel himself coloring again. “I don't have him. I just like his videos. Whatever, just tell Allura I'm sick today, ok?”

Shiro laughs, which is not the reaction of someone who had to being bad news to the boss. “ _Believe it or not, she's out too. Apparently she and that old guy you work with go way back and they were reminiscing together over a bottle of sake._ ” It's a hard scene to conjure up, Allura drunk with Coran. It was a shame he missed it. 

He says goodbye to Shiro (he actually says ‘good night’ by accident) and tosses his phone aside. He's asleep before his cat can realize that he still hasn't been fed. 

When Keith wakes up he's feeling a lot better. He gets his ass out bed, if only out of fear of being eaten alive by the cat. The ginger monstrosity called ‘Red’ is quicker than he looks. Keith and him have an agreement: Keith feeds Red and Red doesn’t destroy the apartment. 

Keith has a simple apartment on the fourth floor of a building not far from his work. He had a bedroom, office, bathroom, kitchen and living room. There's even a balcony that he doesn't use very often. It's bigger than he needs, which is why he got a cat in the first place. As fat as the cat is, he still doesn’t fill the empty space.

The fridge is about as empty as the apartment. Keith doesn't cook, unless you count turning on the rice maker. He orders in far too often, which is why there is a blessed container of leftover Chinese waiting for him. It is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He heats it up and sits at his computer desk eating with wooden chopsticks, while his computer is booting up with happy little sounds. 

Keith is impatient to get online. Today is Wednesday and Deep_blu said he was looking for help doing an arena run. Keith is as nervous as a virgin on his first date. He keeps doubting himself and questioning if maybe he misunderstood Deep_blu’s message: maybe he was joking. 

It is too early for anyone to be online. Keith isn't really sure of what time zone Deep_blu is in, but judging by his steaming times, 3pm is still too early for him to be around. When he opens up a tab in his browser for Twitch, however, there's a new message waiting for him. 

**Deep_blu: haha yeah sorry man i had a few too many  
Probably good thing you didnt stream **

Keith grins. 

**Keefer_K: you lush**

**Deep_blu: aw man im too hung over for yur insults  
I need love and affection **

Keith allows himself a little sigh of pleasure. This guy is killing him. 

**Keefer_K: you big baby  
am I gunna hold your hand through arena or what **

**Deep_blu: yes pls <3 **

Keith is wondering now if he'll make it through the stream without passing out from the blood rushing to his head. This stupid dork is too adorable.

They exchange Skype information, which gives Keith another guilty rush of pleasure, in order to chat and share screens during the stream. Keith is feeling nervous again in anticipation of hearing Deep_blu’s voice. Not just hearing it: having it address him directly. He is going to talk and Deep_blu is going to reply and they are going to have a real conversation like two people: not just disembodied voices on the other sides of the world (or continent).

Deep_blu is going to host the stream and capture Keith’s Skype call in the background. He asks if it's OK to use his video, to add a little flavor. Keith agrees, and only feels a little sorry that Deep_blu isn't going to stream his own face. 

When Skype rings, Keith jumps like a robber to the sounds of sirens. For some reason he is smoothing down his hair and adjusting himself in the camera settings as if it is a mirror. He panics momentarily when he sees how tired he looks but it is too late: he has to answer the call.

“ _Heyyyy_.”

Keith is already blushing and he thanks god that his video hasn’t loaded yet. He concentrates on relaxing and fails.

“Hey, man. How’s the head?”

Deep_blue laughs and Keith wants to melt from the sound. He tries to focus on the shared screen that has appeared on his Skype call. He savours the brief view of Deep_blu’s desktop, cluttered beyond belief with games and apps with a picture of the ocean as a background. “ _Not terrible. I had to call in sick though. You?_ ”

“Yeah, I’m off work today, too.” He’s wondering how far he can stretch the small talk. “What time is it for you?”

“ _3:20,_ ” Deep_blu supplies. So he’s in the same time zone as Keith. “ _I live in Westriver, you?_ ”

Keith’s heart does a flip. How is it possible that they live in the same city? OK, Westriver isn’t small, but what are the odds? A million possible situations flash in his brain, each as fanciful as the last: bumping into Deep_blu at a coffee shop, meeting through a mutual friend, finding each other on a dance floor…

Keith has to remind himself that they are playing Hearthstone, despite the fact that the game is literally in front of his eyes. “Ugh, me too,” he manages with as much carelessness as he can muster.

“ _Yeah, I know. It’s on your profile._ ” So Deep_blu had gone out of his way to look at Keith’s profile information. Fucking yes. “ _I’m going to go live now-- you ready?_ ” Keith isn’t ready. He’ll never be ready. He needs a break that he isn’t going to get.

“Are you?” Deep_blu laughs again and when Keith refreshes the Twitch channel, he can see the game and his own face next to Deep_blu’s usual blue lion avatar. Seeing those two together gives him chills.

Building an arena deck with Deep_blu is deeply satisfying. Keith is given ample opportunity to show off his knowledge and his pupil takes his advice with only minimal whining. Deep_blu keeps wanting to take silly cards and Keith reins him in with teasing remarks. They banter back and forth, never too serious, like jousting with pool noodles. Keith knows he is walking a fine line between teasing and flirting, but he is fairly certain that Deep_blu is playing it up for the viewers.

By the time they start actually playing the game, they have almost 100 viewers. “I can’t believe these people actually want to watch you lose,” Keith jabs.

“ _Well you did!_ ”

“Only for a sense of superiority. Oh my god, can you please stop attacking face?” Deep_blu is using his minions to attack the other player instead of controlling the board like he should be with this particular deck. “He’s going to buff those dudes if you don’t get rid of them.”

“ _I thought you specialized in aggro decks??_ ” He’s referring to Keith’s tendency to play decks that don’t control the board.

“This isn’t an aggro deck you dumbass. Oh my god, can you just listen to me?” Keith can’t help it-- he laughs as Deep_blu misplays again and moans his regret. “You idiot. What am I even here for?”

“ _I’m sorry, senpai._ ”

The viewers are eating it up. They are calling Deep_blu a dummy and showing Keith in hearts emoticons. It’s fairly light and Deep_blu never seems truly offended. These are his fans, after all and in the end, they love watching him lose. 

Once he starts to actually listen, Deep_blu starts to win matches. Keith realizes after a while that he’s not a bad player at all: he does the math and makes the right moves even without Keith’s help. None-the-less he wants to know Keith’s opinion on everything.

They play together for 4 hours before Keith realizes how long he’s been sitting there. “Holy shit, I think I’m going to pass out.” He reaches above his head, stretching with a satisfied groan. “Should we call it quits?”

“ _Aww, buddy. You sick of me already? _”__

__“I was sick of you by the first match, dude. I need to sleep or eat or go outside.” Keith wants to play Hearthstone with Deep_blu all night, but he would regret it in the morning. Allura would probably not appreciate his taking two sick days in a row._ _

“ _Alright. That’s it for tonight, sports fans._ ” There is a collective call of dismay from the chat window and a predictable spam of emoticons in a variety of shapes and colours. But then Deep_blu shuts off his streaming software and the channel goes offline. He doesn’t hang up on the Skype call, and Keith doesn’t want to be the first one to say goodnight. 

“ _That was fun,_ ” he says in a quiet way. His voice seems a little deeper than usual-- husky, even. Keith wets his lips and takes a breath through his nose. 

“Yeah, thanks for having me.” 

“ _You’re really good at this game, Keefer._ ” Keith loves the sound of his name (albeit his online name) being used by that voice. “ _We have to do that more often. Soon._ ” 

“If you insist.” It’s really hard to keep acting indifferent, but it is the safest way to reply. Keith is afraid he might spill all of his thoughts and feelings otherwise. 

“ _Geez, you’re so cranky,_ ” Deep_blu says, but he’s still chuckling. “ _It’s friggen cute._ ” 

Keith wants to die from embarrassment, but he decides to keep on living so that he can cherish the comment for the rest of his life. His video is still on and there’s no way that Deep_blu can’t see him blushing. He busies himself with organizing a few pencils lying on his desk. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Just send me a message when you want to play. I’m around. Usually.” He needs to end this call right now, because it is getting too close to dangerous territory. 

Deep_blu is laughing again. “ _Alright. Goodnight, dear._ ” 

“Night.” 

The call ends and Keith stares at the Skype icon, which is a picture of a hippopotamus. He wants to send another message to Deep_blu right now, but he isn’t sure what there is to say. He doesn’t want to stop talking to him. 

His body is doing weird things to him, even after Keith grabs a cheap dinner from the grocery store around the corner. His skin tingles all over and his stomach is light. He tries to go to bed early, but he can’t stop running the conversation over and over again in his head. ‘Friggen cute’, keeps popping up and Keith’s breath catches each time he remembers it. 

With slow, guilty hands, he slips his boxer briefs down and indulges himself for the first time since he started crushing on Deep_blu. He can’t help it: every time he remembers that slightly husky voice saying his name, he feels a warmth in his body that makes him react physically. When he’s done, he calls himself an idiot and settles in for a long, sleepless night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys thing-- does this warrant changing the rating to 'mature'?


	5. Chapter 5

Luckily, nearly the entire office took a sick day the same as Keith. It feels like arriving to work on a Monday and everyone still looks a little groggy. Keith is no better, but he has decided to give up on ever sleeping well again. He replaces his lack of sleep with coffee, as usual.

“Morning, sunshine.” Keith jumps at the slightly crackling voice. The writer, Lance, is leaning on the doorknob to the design office and looking a little worse for ware. Keith narrows his gaze, trying to decide what looks different about him: a cherry nose, bags under his eyes and a little less colour in his cheeks. His voice, too, sounds like gravel.

“What happened to you?”

“Wow, what a greeting. I have a cold, alright?” Lance looks a little hurt, and it is made all the more pathetic when he sniffs. “I always get sick after a hangover.”

“Ugh,” Keith says, but he can’t help but feel for the guy.

“Oh, come on. I came all the way over here to see if you’d give me some sympathy. You can at least humour me.”

“There, there,” Keith says in a flat voice. Lance grins, despite it all. He clears his throat a few times, as if it would do anything to alter his raspy throat.

“Well, I guess that counts. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Keith sighs. “Wait, sorry.” He turns in his swivel computer chair to face the pathetic writer. “You said you wanted to see my work, right?”

Lance looks like he’s found shelter in a storm, and his smile is so earnest it’s hard to look at. “How about over lunch?” he says in a way that would almost be smooth if it wasn’t for his terrible voice. “Bring some stuff and you can treat me to chicken soup downstairs.”

“Pay for your own soup and I’ll consider paying for the coffee.”

“Deal.”

Keith has had many lunches since he started working for Altean Games with many different coworkers, but he was having trouble figuring out why this one made him feel so anxious. Maybe it was because he was still stuck in that awkward place with Lance between ‘friend’ and ‘guy-he’s-been-checking-out’. He had gone through the same thing with Shiro all those years ago, and he reminds himself that he managed to get through that _just fine_.

It also helps that the one he actually likes keeps sending him Hearthstone memes over Skype. 

Keith brings his laptop with him, because he can access all of his work on the Cloud. Technically he could work from anywhere, but the tools on his work computer are so much more sophisticated than anything he could afford on his own. But at least he can show Lance a few pictures.

“I don’t have any of the ships or mechs,” he admits when he opens the laptop and brings it to life. They are eating at the little cafe on the ground floor of their office building. It has good coffee but bad sandwiches. He settles for a bowl of soup like Lance and discovers it tastes like something his dad used to make. “That’s Ezor’s domain. I mostly work on the characters.”

The newest project is set in a scifi setting. The game play is a mixture of first-person adventuring and maneuvering space ships. It is in the very beginnings of development, which means the design team has been given a lot of wiggle room to be creative. All Keith has to go off of is the different playable classes, the setting and the gameplay expectations. After that, a multitude of meetings would help prune and polish until everyone was happy. 

He opens up his latest work-- drawings of the 5 basic playable characters, who will have their own abilities and background. The writing team hadn’t given him much to work with, so he used his own inspiration for each one. “So we have the fighter, tank, tech, ranged, and leader.” He opens the first picture, which has each character lined up wearing matching space suits.

“Ooo, nice,” Lance says, scooting his chair so that he is very close to Keith. “These are the paladins, right?”

“Yeah, but are you really sticking to that name?” 

Lance nods with confidence. “They are protectors of the galaxy, man. I like how their suits sort of look like armor.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was going for. It’s simple and I think it’ll translate well to animation. I colour-coded the characters, too.” He indicates the subtle details around the white armor. “I figure they will match their mechs.”

“I like it. It’ll help the players tell each other apart. What about their weapons?”

Keith goes back to the folder holding his images and double clicks on one. Although he isn’t an expert at drawing mechs or ships, he loves weapon design. “Here. A sword for the fighter, cannon for the tank, a sort of… uh, multi-tool for the tech, rifle for the ranged and the leader sort of has this bionic arm.”

“That’s perfect!” Lance exclaims and Keith feels his knee knock gently into his own under the table. “That goes with the backstory of his losing his arm. I love it.”

Keith nods. “Yeah, Coran and I came up with it. We’re not sure how that weapon will translate to game mechanics, but we have a meeting with that team tomorrow. Hey, can I show you the alien races I’ve been inventing?” He’s starting to feel enthusiastic now. He’s fairly proud of the work he’s done so far and Lance is the perfect audience for him to show it off. 

“Yeah, bring it on!”

There’s a whole folder dedicated to these designs, and Keith opens a few choice images to showcase a few of them. “I really like these guys-- they have no eyes and use other creatures to communicate and see. And these ones are your main bad guys. I’m not sure about the purple… I’m still testing a few colour schemes.”

“Oh yeah, I like these chicks!” Lance brushes Keith’s hand off the touchpad and switches to the species who basically look like mermaids. “Are they all girls? You should make some dudes, too. Maybe they can be shark people!”

“Seriously? That would be so weird.”

“No, no, hear me out,” Lance goes on. He’s talking fast and sounds as enthusiastic as Keith. “They’d still be, like, humanoid from the waist up. But shark tails, you know? Sort of sexy, right?”

Keith raises an eyebrow and lets out a laugh. “Sexy? OK, buddy.”

“You can’t make sexy girls and no sexy guys! I won’t stand for double standards in my company, Keith.”

Keith agrees, because he would much rather the male characters be sexy anyway. That’s why one of the playable characters looks like Lance. “OK, I’ll try it out. But if they reject it at the meeting I’m blaming you.”

“You mean you’ll give me all the credit. I could do with a raise, anyway.”

Keith is feeling strangely comfortable, his arm sharing space with Lance’s on the table and their legs touching briefly underneath. He reflects that it has been a long time since he’s been on a real date, and wonders what it would be like to meet with Deep_blu in this way. The thought makes him blush.

“You OK?” Lance asks in his rough voice. Keith looks at him, his face very near. It would be nothing to reach out and feel how smooth his tanned skin is.

“I’m not the sick one,” Keith retorts, trying to keep the stammer from his voice. “You should probably go home.”

“Allura would murder me. I was out yesterday, too.” Lance leans back in his chair, stretching. A little gap appears between his shirt and pants, revealing a flat tummy. Keith looks away.

Keith spends the rest of the day at work looking between the character designs to where Lance is pacing his own office, chatting animatedly with one of the other writers. He is feeling troubled, and he is starting to figure out what the problem is.

Lance is hot, Keith has admitted this already-- he even told Shiro as much. But he learned at the office party that he was like so many other unobtainable guys he has come across. That should be the end of it, but Keith can’t help but continue to watch him. 

But the real problem is the guilt. The person who he actually is interested in is some random guy on the internet and he can’t help worrying about what would happen if he actually met him. What if Deep_blu looks nothing like the guys Keith is usually attracted to? That shouldn’t matter, should it? He eyes the writer in the next room and the guilty feeling only gets worse.

But then Deep_blue sends Keith a picture of all of the Hearthstone heroes as cats, and he decides that he doesn’t care about that Lance guy at all.

That night Keith streams himself playing Hearthstone, and he is surprised to see his viewer count is high again. Deep_blu is hosting him, and he lets the warm feeling erase any last lingering feelings of guilt. 

**Nano219: KEEFER we misse dyou <3 <3 <3 **

**junjuc__: this guy blows blu out of the water, DEEP YOU ARENT CUTE ENOUGH**

**blk_Shiro: Keith, I’m here to moderate because I’m seriously worried about how many perverts Deep_blu is bringing to your channel.**

Keith grins. It’s been a while since Shiro has tuned into one of his streams. Shiro was the one who got him into the game in the first place. “Hey guys. Let’s try to keep it PG tonight so that Shiro doesn’t ban everyone.”

**Nano219: i’ve got his back, Shiro, don’t worry :PP**

**Deep_blu: What do you mean, perverts?!**

**2184785: i wanna dress him up like a girl <==3**

**_User 2184785 has been blocked._ **

Keith groans in disgust, and tries to concentrate on his game instead of the chat window. He’s playing ranked matches, which means he needs to actually win and not mess around. But it’s hard when his best friend and his crush are arguing over chat.

**Deep_blu: THAT WASNT MY FAULT**

**blk_Shiro: I swear if you guys ruin my Keith I will murder you all**

**Deep_blu: what do you mean YOUR keith?? when did you call dibs because I missed it ??**

“So, uh, what do you guys think of the next expansion? That last wing of the single player was actually challenging.”

**blk_Shiro: that’s KEEFER to you, @Deep_blu. Talk to me when you get out of the friend zone.**

**Nano219: HIS NAME IS KEIHT??? WHY DIDNT ANYONE TELL ME.**

Keith doesn’t mind that they can all see him burying his face in his hands. He is not cut out for this much popularity. He is already considering shutting off the stream when he gets a private message from Deep_blu. 

**Deep_blu: tell me about Shiro**

Keith stares at the message, trying to make heads or tails of it. 

**Keefer_K: he's a friend I work with**

**Deep_blu: are you dating?**

Keith has almost missed his turn in Hearthstone and he scrambles to make a play before the timer expires. He’s feeling flushed and confused, and tries not to show it over the camera. “Hah, you guys need to stop messaging me,” he jokes lamely. 

**Deep_blu: that nano guy told me you were gay  
i think he was trying to ‘warn’ me**

Keith’s mouth feels dry and he has forgotten how to breath. He has definitely missed his turn this time, but he can’t force himself to make a move in the game. Numbly he goes to his streaming software and shuts it down. He has to make himself breath, because he can feel a panic attack coming on.

Red jumps onto the desk and parks himself in front of Keith. He reaches to touch the soft ginger fur, and the sensation brings him back to the present. Red blinks in contentment and allows himself to be pet slowly.

There’s another message on Twitch:

**Deep_blu: where’d you go :((  
Pls come back**

**Keefer_K: I don’t feel good. I think someone at work gave me their cold.**

**Deep_blu: aaah i’m sorry!!  
get some sleep then**

Keith stays to pat his cat a few more minutes, allowing the sensation to calm him down. He doesn’t think about anything but the sound of his deep, rumbling purrs. It does well to drown the screaming in the back of his head.


	6. Chapter 6

Needless to say, Keith is in a bad headspace when he gets to work the next day. This week has been a fucking marathon of emotions, and he’s so done with it. A part of him wishes that he had he could go back to admiring Deep_blu from a distance, like he had a week ago. He is no good at relationships, or friendships, or whatever the hell he was harbouring Deep_blu. He just wants to wrap himself in blankets, eat bad food and play video games.

“No, that is NOT what you are doing this weekend,” Ezor says sharply after Keith tells her his plans for the weekend. She’s in an enthusiastic mood after sitting in the depths of despair all afternoon. Coran and Keith both had to talk her out of deleting all of designs in a fit of frustration. After a brief pep talk with her idol Allura, she is suddenly jubilant again. And she won’t leave Keith alone.

“Let’s do something _fun_ ,” she insists. “Let’s go to the Seahorse again. That was the best night I’ve had in so long!”

Keith is about to object when Hunk practically breaks down their office door. “YOU’RE GOING TO THE SEAHORSE?!”

“Yeah! Keith and I are going Saturday night, wanna come?” Ezor sings over the sounds of Keith’s protests. 

“Ah, you know Saturday night is… uh…” Hunk is suddenly very self conscious, and he looks from Ezor’s beaming face to Keith’s crestfallen one. “You know… a night for experimenting, if you know what I mean?”

“Rainbow daaaaaaance!” Ezor says, actually singing this time. “Easily best night of the week. You’re not going to back out, are ya, Hunk?” She is waggling her eyebrows and Hunk crosses his arms over his big chest.

“Heck no. A party is a party and I love a good party.” He’s rambling, which means he’s a little more than nervous. But Keith has to give him credit for not flinching. “Just text me-- I’ll be there with bells on. Not literally. Unless that’s a thing.” He manages to slink away before making more stupid comments, and Keith realizes he’s been duped into agreeing to go out on Saturday, in the very least for Hunk’s sake.

The last time Keith was dragged to the Seahorse, it had been his first week working for the company. Ezor had ambushed him, got him thoroughly drunk and then ditched him for a girl she met that night. He didn’t remember much after that. It has almost been a year since then, and Keith has managed not to go to a club since then. 

And yet, here he is, trying out shirt after shirt, trying to remember what he is supposed to do in these situations. He’s hoping that once he gets there, Ezor and Hunk will be distracted enough to let him sneak away early. They certainly aren’t going to let him skip it altogether, because they show up at his door with a handle of vodka.

At least this is taking his mind off of Deep_blu. Keith hasn’t been online since they last chatted, and he’s been shrugging off the messages Deep_blu sends over Skype. He shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but the last time he had been outed unintentionally, it hadn’t gone over well. Sure, it was a long time ago, but it had ruined at least one good friendship. 

Keith takes the shot glass that Ezor offers him and coughs after the terrible alcohol goes down his throat. The three of them lounge in Keith’s living room for an hour before going out, because according to Ezor, 9pm is too early to be there. Hunk is fumbling around with Keith’s hair, because he’s some kind of secret stylist and Keith can’t help it-- he _likes_ when people do his hair.

They are all tipsy when they finally leave the apartment. Keith’s hair is in a ponytail and out of some newfound sense of (alcohol-fueled) confidence he thinks it looks good on him. He even decides that maybe he won’t try to sneak away early because really, what would he do at home anyway?

The Seahorse is downtown and they take a taxi to get there. Ezor is dressed up to the nines-- her hair a fresh, neon pink and her dress short and black. She wears gold earrings and bracelets that jangle when she walks (which isn’t often-- she spends more time leaping about). 

Hunk is casual in a suit jacket over a yellow shirt and surprisingly flattering jeans. Keith actually gives him a good once over because he never even considered it before. “Like what you see?” Hunk says because Keith is not being very subtle right now.

“Well, yeah,” Keith admits. “You might actually pick up tonight.”

“Yeeeeeah,” Hunk says with exaggerated hesitation. “I think I’m good.”

There is a line outside the bar, but it’s summer and it isn’t a bad wait. Keith takes in the night with a deep breath and decides everything is _fine_ and tomorrow he’s going to stream and talk to Deep_blu like nothing is wrong. He smiles, then, because he really does feel at peace.

“I know that look,” says a voice. Keith looks around, because he could have sworn someone was talking to him. He meets golden brown eyes and an easy smile. This guy is taller than Keith, and he cocks his head to look down at him. “You’ve had a long week and this is the first time you’ve been able to relax.” 

“Something like that,” Keith admits. The guy has to be in his late twenties, though his blond hair is immaculate and his dark skin unblemished. He has the look of someone who _grooms_.

“I'm Lotor,” he says with a smile that must have charmed quite a few people in his days. He offers a hand and Keith shakes it, despite it being an awkward gesture in a busy club line.

“Keith.”

“Nice to meet you, Keith,” Lotor says and Keith finds himself wanting to look away. Luckily the line is moving and he doesn’t have to stand there looking as awkward as he feels. “I’d love to hear what makes your week so long. Can I buy you a drink when we get inside?” 

Keith is looking for Ezor and Hunk, but somehow they got into the club before him. “Sure. Ah, I need to find my friends, so…” He manages to excuse himself, ducking past a group of chatty girls and flashing his ID to the bouncer at the door.

Ezor and Hunk have already ordered drinks and are talking with great animation to two other girls who Ezor seems to know. She introduces them to Keith but he forgets their names almost as soon as hears them. In the darkness and loud music of the club, his sense of relief is ebbing away and he starts to feel nervous.

“I’m going to use the washroom,” he says loudly to Hunk, because they managed to pick a spot too near to the speakers. He turns away, trying to remember where the washrooms are. He doesn’t actually need to use them, but it is an excuse to be alone for a moment.

“Keith?” He almost misses his name being called. He turns around, not recognizing any of the dark faces in the room, until they fall on one that smiles. 

“Lance,” Keith says with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with friends. You?”

“Yeah, same. Hunk is here.”

“That jerk!” Lance says with mock anger. “He told me he wouldn’t come on Saturdays after… ah, whatever. That’s his story to tell.” He runs a hand through his short brown hair.

Keith’s brain is busy trying to make calculations, but the vodka is making it hard. “You come here often?”

“Eh, less often these days. Tonight I just…” He shrugs heavily and Keith imagines that he looks a little sad in the dim light. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Wait, back up,” Keith’s brain is finally catching up. “You come on _Saturdays_?”

Lance’s face lights up and a wide grin spreads across his face. “I thought it was obvious.”

“I thought you liked girls?”

Lance rolls his eyes and puts an arm casually around Keith’s shoulders. “You have to be one of the least perceptive people I have ever met. Do people always have to spell things out for you?”

Keith wants to retort, but Lance has hit it on the nose: he’s never been good at _people_. 

“I’m bi, Keith. I like sexy ladies and cute boys. Don’t count yourself out just yet, dear.” Keith feels his cheeks colouring and suddenly the arm around his shoulder feels much more intimate than it did before.

“W-what are you…”

“Ugh, you are too cute, man. I can’t handle you.” Lance pulls away to rub his face with two hands. “Listen, I need to tell you something, because apparently you’re an idiot.”

Keith wants to feel angry at being called an ‘idiot’, but he gets a sense that Lance is about to say something extremely important. When Lance pulls his hands away, he’s smirking. “Well?” Keith says impatiently.

“Ah, Keith, _there_ you are.” The guy from the line-- Keith forgets his name already-- is sweeping over to him with two mixed drinks. He must not see Lance, because he steps right into the space between them. “I hope you will still indulge me.”

Keith is at a loss for what to say. He wants to push this guy out of the way and get Lance to say whatever it was that he was about to say. But Lance is giving Keith a sort of half smile, half grimace and is already pulling away. 

“Wait, Lance,” Keith says quickly, but it’s too damn loud and Lance is already retreating before he can hear his name. 

“Oh, sorry,” the man says. What the hell was his name? “I didn’t see him. Did I interrupt something?” He practically shoves the drink into Keith’s hand in such a way that he is forced to take it. 

When Keith looks back up, he can’t see where Lance went. “I have to go,” he says curtly before putting the drink down. He wends his way back to the table where he left Hunk and Ezor. They are not there, nor the girls they had met. There is a considerable crowd on the dance floor, but none of them have pink hair or are as tall as Hunk. Lance is nowhere to be seen.

The confidence that was once bubbling in Keith’s chest is gone now. He feels trapped and alone. He pushes past groups of partiers and dancers to find the quiet stillness of the night air. He keeps walking until he stands in an empty park.

Keith yanks out the hair tie holding his ponytail together and tosses it away in frustration. He can’t even place why he is so annoyed. He feels like Lance was about to say something that would change everything, but Keith can’t begin to imagine what it was. And then Lance had left with that look of disappointment on his face and now Keith is sure he has lost the chance to be his friend.

Feeling hollow and upset, Keith heads home alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus people I went to bed an innocent soul buy woke up to 5000000000 comments and now I feel dirty and greedy can YALL CALM DOWN 
> 
> I love you so much


	7. Chapter 7

The sun rises too early the next morning, and Keith immediately regrets his decision to finish the handle of vodka that Ezor had left at his apartment. For a second time in a week, Keith has a hangover and he wonders what the threshold is for admitting that he has a problem. At least it is Sunday, and he doesn’t have to go to work.

For once in his life, Keith is desperate to go to work. He can’t stop thinking about Lance, and that stupid, sad look on his face. He’s been running the scene through his head since he woke up and it is making his headache worse. 

He can’t shake the feeling that Lance had been hitting on him. It’s been so long since Keith’s been the centre of someone’s attention that he forgets what the cues are. OK, he knows that that Lotor guy was hitting on him, and that was part of the problem. He had been so obviously hitting on Keith that he likely ruined any chance with Lance.

That brings Keith back to his original problem: _does_ he have a chance with Lance? The possibility has his heart skipping a beat (or maybe that is just the dehydration). He can’t deny the deep, pleasurable feeling that sprouts in his lower stomach when he thinks about it. Lance is really hot.

And then the guilty feeling comes back. Why does Keith feel like he’s cheating on Deep_blu? They never had a relationship to begin with, but he feels like it was going somewhere. But now he’s lying here blushing about some eye candy in the office next door and he wants to punch himself. 

Red is eyeing Keith from his spot at the end of the bed. It’s as if the damned cat can read Keith’s mind and he’s actually _judging_ him. “Oh, fuck off,” he says to Red, who flicks his tail in response. Keith rolls over, but doesn’t get any more sleep that morning.

After an hour of rolling, he gets out of bed and slinks to his computer chair in the office. He decides today is the perfect day for an offline, single-player game. He’s in need of a safe, familiar game that won’t throw him any curve balls. Maybe something in a fantasy setting. He lets the game boot up while he boils a kettle of water for a bowl of ramen and some tea. Keith then sits at his computer and watches the loading screen of his game. A familiar music tinkles out of his speakers and he feels at least a little at ease. 

But he can’t help glancing at his task bar every so often. Habit is telling him to open his browser and open a tab for each of his favourite websites. He isn’t even sure why he is hesitating. 

He has a message on Twitch, and he regrets that he has seen it because now he has to open it.

**Deep_blu: you home buddy?  
Keeeeefer  
miss you fam**

Keith feels a pull at his heart, which only makes his sense of guilt grow. This guy. This fucking guy. He is too perfect and precious and Keith is an asshole for looking at other guys.

**Keefer_K: calm down son**

Keith has two monitors, so he tries to focus on the game he’s playing while keeping half an eye on his chat window. Somehow the familiar sounds and graphics of the game are not soothing Keith as well as he had hoped.

**Deep_blu: i thought you died**

**Keefer_K: you wish**

**Deep_blu: no man i’d be real torn up if you kicked it!!  
whatever man you at home?**

The question strikes Keith as odd. Is he hoping to stream together? Keith is in no condition but it will be hard to say ‘no’.

**Deep_blu: i thought we could hang out  
like real stylez  
if not today maybe tomorrow…?**

Of all the things Keith expects Deep_blu to say, this was the furthest from his mind. He’s pulling a blank and his character in his game is literally dying while he stares at Deep_blu’s message. 

**Deep_blu: im hosting a fireside gathering tomorrow  
thought you might wanna come  
:))**

Keith hasn’t been to a fireside gathering before. It was a social way for Hearthstone players to get together in real life and battle each other. It’s a clever system that not a lot of other games use and Keith has wondered how they worked. 

**Keefer_K: do your viewers know??**

**Deep_blu: noooo way this is just people i know in real life haha  
if you dont wanna come no big deal! :)**

Keith groans into his hands, elbows on the table and face in his palms. Isn’t this the thing he’s been waiting for ever since he found out Deep_blu lived in the same city as him? But the horrible side of his brain is imagining a room full of nerds playing video games together, and Deep_blu fits in perfectly. Keith is a terrible person. He doesn’t deserve to be friends with this guy.

**Keefer_K: I can try but I’ve got a lot of stuff going on right now**

Deep_blu doesn’t reply right away and Keith feels like shit and almost takes it back. But he’s confused and thinking about Lance and he’s not ready to meet Deep_blu. Not yet.

**Deep_blu: hey no worries if you change your mind we’re at murder comics  
the one on chester st**

**Keefer_K: yeah I know the one. I’ll let you know!  
Want to play or stream?**

He’s trying to soften the blow and it feels cheap and pathetic. Keith has a headache and he wants to cry and his videogames are doing _nothing_ to make him feel better.

**Deep_blu: sorry i gotta run but talk to you later!!**

Shit.

Shit shit shit. 

Keith swings around in his computer chair and throws a book across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying ‘thunk’ but Keith doesn’t feel any better. He hates himself and he hates how crap he is at interacting with other people. Why can’t he just hide in his room the rest of his life and never talk to another living soul again?

Deep_blu is offline for the rest of the day. Keith can’t remember how he spends the rest of the day, but eventually he’s back under his covers. His bed is big and empty, the house is quiet, and he feels a loneliness that he thoroughly deserves.

Work is no better the next day, because Coran is on vacation and Ezor has decided to become a model worker (after a stern word from Allura). Keith tries not to watch Lance in his office, but the writer is sitting stoically at his desk in a way that he never has before. Normally the serious atmosphere would be perfect for getting work done, but it is grinding Keith to a anxious pulp. He wants Lance to look up and meet his eyes so that he can silently communicate that they need to talk.

When his break comes around, Shiro manages to block him at the door. “Hey buddy-- long time no see.” Keith can’t believe how impatient he feels with his friend. He takes a breath and makes himself calm down because he has all day to talk to Lance. 

“Hey,” he says with a forced smile. The corner of his mouth barely twitches.

Shiro looks unconvinced. “Bad weekend?”

Keith heaves a breath, but doesn’t know how to approach explaining his situation. So instead he shakes his head. “I don’t know. I guess it was OK.” When Shiro looks worried, Keith adds: “I’m fine. Really.”

“Hunk says you guys went out?”

“Yeah, sort of. I ended up home early.” Shiro smirks, because Keith always ends up home early. 

“To play video games, I know.” Shiro sighs, like someone worrying over their hopeless child. “I was talking to that Deep_blu guy, you know.”

Keith wants to stop his heart from racing, but he’s too busy trying to arrange his features so that Shiro doesn’t read his mind. “You guys friends now?”

“Never,” Shiro says and he’s smiling. “But he’s a nice guy. I have to admit.”

“I know,” Keith admits as well. This isn’t making him feel any better.

“He invited me to his fireside gathering, actually. Did you know about it?”

Keith is surprised by this. But then he reminds himself that he isn’t the only person in Deep_blu’s life. He is a friendly, outgoing person who probably attracts friends like moths to neon lights. He knows Shiro lives in the city and reached out to him the same as Keith. He’s a genuinely nice person and Keith is spending his time complicating things when all he should want is to join that circle of friends. 

He doesn’t even care that Keith is gay. Keith is shocked that he didn’t realize it before. They had a whole conversation after the revelation and it wasn’t mentioned once. He was so worried about Lance that he completely overlooked the fact that unlike past friends, Deep_blu was still talking to him like he was a human being. And here was Keith comparing him to Lance like some kind of shallow asshole. He’s the worst kind of hypocrite. 

Keith has made his mind up. He has to meet Deep_blu and finally stop being so unsure about himself and his feelings. Who cares if his perfect vision of Deep_blu is shattered-- he will still be the same goofy, lovable nerd. Maybe Keith can be someone that deserves to be his friend.

Now Keith is nervous, because this means he will finally hear that voice in real life. He wonders if his heart can take it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so fucking sorry

Keith is a mess by the time he gets home. His stomach is in knots and even though he knows he needs to eat supper, he’s afraid he’ll just throw it all up. Instead he stands in front of his closet and stares at his terrible choice in clothing for an uncountable amount of time. Finally he reminds himself that he’s going to a goddamn _comic book store_ and that he’d probably be fine showing up in nothing at all.

No, he can’t think about himself naked around Deep_blu because those thoughts are STRICTLY UNNECESSARY AT A TIME LIKE THIS.

Keith almost decides to stay home at the last minute, but somehow convinces his legs to start moving-- past the threshold of his apartment door, down the hallway, down the elevators, and through the atrium. The sun is setting by the time he gets outside, but he can’t imagine how he spent the last two hours. His mind is fuzzy and he’s starting to regret not eating any dinner.

It’s too late now. He has to go or he will never work up the courage again.

Murder Comics is on Keith’s side of the city, which he decides is too close for his liking. He barely has the time to gather his thoughts on the bus before he is arriving at Chester Street. It’s a business district and a few people are walking in pairs or alone between the restaurants and stores. Keith tries to look as natural as anyone else, and fails.

In general Keith avoids comic book shops. If he wants to indulge in graphic novels or games, he finds them online. These places are for people to come together and share their love of all things nerdy, and he is not comfortable with that level of socializing. He’d rather stick to chat rooms.

Of course this place is busy by the time he arrives. It has a sort of lounge area at the back where people are laughing and playing a complicated board game. Several people are standing between the shelves of comic books, browsing or talking with a friend. Behind a desk filled with cards and miniatures, an employee leans forward on the glass while having a heated discussion with someone over an open comic. The place has a cheerful atmosphere, and every once in awhile a voice laughs boisterously. 

Keith stands by the door, clutching the strap of his shoulder bag and eying everyone who walks by. There are men and women, old and young, all sizes and colours of the rainbow. There is no way, from his cautious vantage point, for Keith to know which one is Deep_blu. He spots a collection of couches by the far corner and sees that a flatscreen TV is showing a Hearthstone game. He swallows hard and forces himself to walk in that direction.

They are laughing at something, and he realizes the player controlling the game is about to lose. Several people are watching and apparently the situation is hilarious. Keith can’t figure out which player is controlling the game, but he somehow knows it will be him.

One of the players has his back to him, and a quick glance at the tablet in front of him tells Keith it is identical to the TV. His heart catches in his throat and he stops walking several meters from the couch.

“Aaaww YES!” a voice cries, and he now he _knows_ it is Deep_blu. “Combo accomplished!”

The others are laughing because despite the fact that he had pulled off some kind of weird card combo, he was literally a turn away from losing the game. The game is ended dramatically and the player throws his hands in the air as if celebrating his loss.

His skin is tanned and he has long fingers. There is something familiar about his short brown hair. Keith can’t move, but his mind is racing. It’s like he’s watching a movie, and when Deep_blu turns his head to talk to someone to his left, he realizes the movie is not a the rom-com he hoped it was.

“ _Lance_?” 

Lance turns so quickly on the couch that he knocks his tablet on the ground. He looks like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and mouth open. “Keith! You came!” He suddenly looks sheepish and cracks a half smile.

But Keith can’t return it. He takes an involuntary step backwards and tries to remember to breathe. “I-I thought,” he is stammering and the other players are looking at him like he is crazy. “I thought you were someone else.”

Lance’s face falls and he jumps over the back of the couch in a smooth movement. He is standing in front of Keith and Keith wants to run away. “I’m not anyone else. It’s me, Keefer.” He is talking in a low, husky voice and Keith doesn’t want to listen. 

“No, you’re _Lance_!”

“Yeah, I’m Lance. My online name is Deep_blu but only because someone else took the name I wanted.”

Keith doesn’t want to believe it. He’s sure that he’s misheard or he’s having a stroke. Lance is looking at him but he is using a voice that sounds exactly like Deep_blu. The two images he had of two very separate people are having trouble merging in his brain.

“It was always me, Keith.”

Keith’s brain finally snaps forward and a new, hot feeling grows in his chest. He clenches his fists to stop them from shaking. “You… fucking _asshole_.” Lance looks utterly surprised, but it doesn’t stop Keith’s rising anger. “You _knew_ who I was and you said _nothing_?!”

“I-- that was--”

“You let me think you were someone completely different-- you have every opportunity to tell me-- you didn’t even stop to _think_ about how this would make me feel?!”

Keith is talking loud enough that everyone in the store has stopped to listen. He doesn’t care, because he has worked himself into a good, frothing rage. 

“I wanted to meet you so _badly_...” He has to stop because he is saying too much and he is afraid the anger might dissolve into tears. “All along you were just making fun of me and probably laughing with them about how fucking _stupid_ I am.” He’s getting dangerously close to self-pity now, and he has to think of an exit strategy.

“Keith, I’m _sorry_ ,” Lance says in a weak, quiet voice. 

“Too fucking late,” Keith seethes. He turns away from Lance because he has to leave _right now_ or he was going to either cry or punch Lance right in the face.

The rage smoulders all the way home, which is a long time, because Keith walks the entire way. By the time he gets home he is tired and shaking. He nearly puts a hole in the atrium wall when he misses the elevator and ends up taking the stairs instead. 

Keith waits until he is in the safety of his apartment before he breaks down. He slides down the wall of his hallway and sits in a puddle of self-pity.

He’s an idiot. He fell for a guy who was jerking him around for his own amusement and now he’s lost two friends and any chance of being happy. No, one friend, because they were the same person all along. How funny had it been to Lance when he found out that Keith was gay? How long had he known, before he decided to string him along? 

Keith feels a softness against his knuckles and he raises his head from his knees. Red is standing beside him, green eyes looking up expectantly. He unlocks his fingers and strokes the cat until there is a soft rumbling purr that fills the silence. The sobbing subsides in the back of Keith’s throat and his breathing is returning to normal. 

Keith slowly gets up and takes himself to the kitchen. Methodically, he measures out the rice and pours it into a strainer to rinse. He adds water and turns on the rice cooker. Then he gets out a pack of salmon he had the good sense to buy last week and opens it carefully. He cuts it into small pieces and adds frozen vegetables with it in an oiled pan.

Before eating, Keith takes a Tylenol and drinks a full glass of water. He polishes off the bowl and sets the dishes in the sink to soak. When he is done, he sits on the couch with a cup of tea and does his best not to think of anything at all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until tonight to post this but because some of you seem to be LITERALLY DYING I thought I'd release it now. I'm sorry for all of the heartache-- I hope you can forgive me someday.

Keith goes to work with a rock in his stomach. More than anything he feels stretched out and tired, as though he has spent all of his energy for the month and he was due for hibernation. But he has meetings today and he is forced to muster up something from the depths of his willpower. 

He hasn’t gone online today. He has turned off the data and wifi on his phone. He’s not sure he can avoid the internet at work, but at least he can distract himself with the tasks at hand. 

There’s a desk on the opposite side of the room as Ezor. It’s small and covered in extra supplies but there’s just enough room there for Keith’s laptop. That’s good, because he needs to face a solid wall. He cannot-- _cannot_ face a window. Not one that faces the writers. 

He hasn’t let his brain think about the incident at all. He knows he should be trying to unravel it and consider his own actions but he’s still too emotionally involved. He isn’t ready yet.

The meetings go poorly. He snaps at the head animator and does a poor job explaining his designs. Ezor makes up for it by preparing a full powerpoint demonstration of her ship designs. They are all approved. Allura takes Keith aside and asks him if he needs a vacation, and honestly, the sympathy is worse that being yelled at.

Shiro is waiting for him after the second meeting and somehow Keith is glad that _finally_ someone is here to fight him. He could do with some yelling right now. But Shiro looks concerned too, and Keith scowls in response. “You’re an idiot,” Shiro says in the nicest way possible.

“Leave me alone.”

“You know, Keith, I can understand that you’re a loner. That’s a lifestyle choice and you live with that. But you are actively pushing people out of your life and it isn’t healthy.”

Keith frowns more, because this isn’t how he expected this conversation to go. “What do you mean?”

“I know what happened with Lance. With Deep_blu.”

Keith looks at Shiro with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. “You _knew_?”

Shiro sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks a lot older than he is, and Keith wonders how much of that is his fault. The guy’s been good to him over the last few years, and he isn’t sure if he’s properly thanked him. Not for the first time, Keith calls himself an idiot.

“Yeah, it was hard not to. You are super dumb, Keith.” At least Shiro is trying to smile.

Keith wants to be angry with him, but he can’t find the energy. Instead his face falls and he spends some time looking at Shiro’s brown suede work shoes.

“He’s been messaging me on Twitch.” This much Keith knew already. He assumes they have some kind of rivalry slash reluctant friendship thing happening. It’s hard to imagine. “Like, all night.”

Keith is feeling it now: the slow creep of guilt. It’s threatening to choke him and he is finding it hard to muster the rage that he had yesterday. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks weakly. “Why didn’t _he_ tell me?”

Shiro takes a breath, as if going underwater. He sits down on the computer chair left by Ezor. She was in a private meeting with Allura. “He asked me not to tell you. Why--? Honestly, I think he’s shy.”

“ _What_?” sputters Keith because the very notion is ridiculous. “The guy has people hanging all over him all the time! He’s the opposite of shy.”

“He’s shy of _you_ , Keith. He’s afraid of what you’ll think of him in real life. Come on, man. You know what it’s like to be able to hide behind a screen and not show anyone what you’re really thinking. You’re always telling me how easy it is to make friends online compared to real life. Now you’re telling me that Lance should be jumping to reveal himself to you the second he can?”

Fuck. Shiro is so right and Keith just feels so much shittier for it. He’s clasping and unclasping his hands on his bag and looking at the ground and reminding himself that work is not a good place to cry. He’s been an idiot after all.

Shiro is sighing again, and Keith imagines that he has sprouted a few new grey hairs since he last looked at his face. “You need to talk to him. In the very least so that he stops talking to me.” Keith has nothing else to say so Shiro leaves him there, standing in the middle of his empty office.

It’s near the end of the day and Keith chances a look to the writer’s office. Lance is not there: he probably went home already, so Keith resolves to go home too. He takes the long way home where the bus drives by the river so he can watch the sun playing off the waves. He spends the whole time doing all the thinking he’s tried not to do since he woke up. It’s painful, but he needs to sort it all out.

That night Keith finally turns on his computer. He has messages-- _too many_ messages. And not just from Deep_blu, but from people he’s never talked to before. There’s a queue on the bar at the bottom of his Twitch channel to show all the messages waiting to be read. Keith is panicking but he knows he has to start reading them.

**Deep_blu: keith im sorry!  
** **Keith please you know i didnt mean to be a jerk**  
**Im so sorry**  
**Keith !!**

Keith whimpers a little and puts his eyes in his hands. Now who’s the jerk?

The other messages are mostly people spamming him with a link to Youtube. He knows better to click on the link but there are _so many_. He closes the message windows one by one, marvelling at how many people sent the link to him. The last one is from Shiro. 

**blk_Shiro: You should probably watch this buddy:  
rttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jBDnYE1WjI**

Keith doesn’t want to watch it, but he desperately wants to watch it. He clicks it, because he has no other choice.

It’s a video on Deep_blu’s channel. The title is ‘Face Reveal -- not Hearthstone but whatever you guys love it’. Keith’s heart is already beating a mile a minute, but he can’t look away.

“ _Sup my people, my adoring fans, Deep_blu here with a SHOCKING video. You all keep begging to see my beautiful face so I am going to indulge you so please, try not to wet yourselves._

The camera shows a cluttered desk, and when it swings around, Keith tries not to flinch when Lance’s face comes into view. The camera focuses and Lance is grinning.

“ _Tada! Oh, try not to be too disappointed. Actually, I sort of tricked you all into watching this because I have a super important message to get to someone._ ”

Lance’s face becomes serious, and he puts the camera down on the desk. Then he leans forward on his hands. “ _This is for Keefer_K._ ”

Keith stomach is doing somersaults and he can feel the heat rising on the back of his neck. Lance is pausing to wet his lips.

“ _I am... sorry. SO sorry. I wasn’t thinking about your feelings and I managed to hurt you. I was afraid to tell you the truth and I know I deserve this for being such a coward._ ” He pauses with his mouth open, as if he isn’t sure how to proceed. He is looking off to the side. “ _I need to see you again, buddy. Please, let me make this up to you.”_ He leans back while letting out a breath that says he feels some kind of relief. “ _Ok, viewers, you know what to do. _”__

__The video ends there and thank god it does because Keith needs to take a serious break. How could he ever stay angry with someone so goddamn pure? How could he have gotten mad in the _first place_? He’s covering his face and groaning because he’s completely fucked up _ again _.__

__There's only one way to fix this. He switches back to Twitch and replies to Deep_blu’s message._ _

__**Keefer_K: are you home?** _ _

__Keith is afraid Lance won't reply and it's what he deserves. He slumps on the desk, arms folded flat on the cool lacquered wood. He rests his head on those arms and imagines for a moment that he might just sleep like this, waiting for a reply. He won’t, of course, because he’ll spend the whole time watching the screen._ _

__**Deep_blu: yes** _ _

__It’s impossible for Keith to read into a single word, but he tries anyway. He doesn’t hesitate in answering._ _

__**Keefer_K: can I come over?** _ _

__**Deep_blu: YES** _ _

__Keith is suddenly bolt upright, hands trembling as he pounds on the keyboard._ _

__**Keefer_K: whats yoru address ??** _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> APPARENTLY THIS IS THE SONG KEITH WILL RUN THROUGH THE CITY TO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bO6lJDpl4wE (blame Abelasvhenan!!)


	10. Chapter 10

Keith can’t believe how close Lance lives. He could take a 5 minute bus, or simply walk. Walking seems the best option because he needs time to steady his breathing and figure out what the hell he is going to say.

He owes it to Lance to listen to an explanation, in the very least. He should have done so last night, if he hadn’t of lost his temper. And somewhere in there Keith needs to apologize, too, because who the hell blows up on someone in public like that? There is also the slim chance of Keith also telling Lance that he had a huge fucking crush on him online and a minor hardon for him in real life and now that they are the same person, he should be jubilant. But that will likely have to wait for another day. He’ll be happy if they even end up friends after tonight.

His thoughts are put on hold by a rumble that rolls through the overcast sky. The sunny day has given over to looming clouds and a cool breeze that means a storm is coming. Keith swears at himself for forgetting an umbrella and picks up the pace. He checks the map on his phone to see that he is only a few blocks away. He barely stuffs it in his bag again before the sky opens up.

He take off at a run, but damn is it a downpour. He is soaked before he even sees the row of houses between which Lance’s apartment is nestled. There is one number by door and three letters denoting the different apartments inside the house. There is no shelter in front on the front step, and Keith is forced to stand in the rain for several minutes after ringing the doorbell.

He hears a bang and something that sounds like someone falling down one or two stairs before the door is wrenched open. Lance looks dishevelled and surprised, as if he didn’t know Keith was coming. 

“Well, can I come in?” Keith tries not to say impatiently, but the water is starting to go down his back and it's freezing. 

“Yeah! Sure, sorry!” Lance seems nervous as he steps back, allowing Keith a view of a small landing and stairs wrapping around the edge of the house. “I’m up there. Keep your shoes on.”

There’s a pile of unopened newspapers and junk mail by the door and a faint musty smell on the carpeted stairs. Keith hears them squeak as he ascends slowly. Lance closes the door and bounds up behind him, taking them two at a time.

“Sorry, it’s not a great place but it’s cheap,” Lance is babbling. “Like, the neighbourhood is kinda cool and I can walk wherever.” He gets to the top of the stairs and unlocks the door. The apartment beyond is lit against the dark storm with soft yellow lights. It smells like pine and curry up here. “I just made dinner-- dishes aren’t done so please don’t look in the kitchen!” The hallway leads to a living room that is surprisingly clean, albeit cluttered. Bookshelves are double stacked and surfaces are covered in plants or knick knacks. The bay windows are streaked with falling rain.

Keith stands in at the threshold of the hall and living room, unable to move. All the things he wanted to say have left his mind. He doesn’t notice that he’s shivering until he is beamed in the head by a rolled up towel.

“You’re dripping,” Lance says with a grin from his spot in front of a linen closet. “Take off your shoes and coat, at least. Unless you aren’t staying.” He looks serious again and turns away to close the closet.

Keith shrugs off his bag and kicks off his shoes. His jacket is soaked through and when he takes it off his shirt is wet in places. At least the towel helps to dry his face. When he lowers it, Lance is in front of him. “You look pathetic.” He takes the towel from Keith’s hands and starts to muss up his hair with it. 

Keith is blushing from his feet to the top of his head. He isn’t used to being taken care of, but he doesn’t want to fight it. Lance’s hands are gentle and warm. 

But he’s come here on a mission, and he isn’t going to be thwarted by a towel. “Lance,” he finally says, and he grabs his wrist for good measure. Lance freezes and pulls away the towel, making Keith’s bangs fall in his eyes again. Looking at Lance’s face is hard, so he settles on his chest. He’s wearing the same henley top as the office party.

“I’m sorry.” Keith can’t believe how hard those two words are to say. They sound forced and bitter in his mouth, but he _means_ it. He closes his eyes and lets out a breath. “I overreacted last night. I’m sorry.”

Lance isn’t speaking so he opens his eyes. His mouth is open slightly and suddenly Keith is worried he will start to cry. It makes him want to wrap his arms around his torso and bury his face in his chest. The intensity of the desire makes him flush red again.

“You… were justified,” Lance says in a weak voice. “I should have told you right away. I recognized you the first time you streamed and I was _so happy_. I- I mean, it was cool, that you play Hearthstone and stuff. And you were so nice to me and you liked my videos. I thought… maybe that was enough. But then we started to talk in real life and you were…” He pauses and moistens his lips again. 

Keith groans and covers his face, not because he’s frustrated, but because he is suppressing a deep desire to jump directly onto Lance.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Lance is saying, probably because he thinks he’s making Keith angry again. 

“It’s _fine_ ,” Keith says too harshly. “I’m not mad. How could I be?”

“Then how can I help you feel better?” Lance is talking in a quiet, thick voice that sounds way, way too much like how he talks on his streams. Keith shivers and drops his hands to look carefully at him. He is standing a little closer than he was before, the towel in one limp hand. The other is reaching out to brush knuckles with Keith. The sensation sends a flush through his body again.

“Keith,” Lance goes on, locking eyes. They are blue, Keith realizes just now. Dark blue, like the ocean. “Wanna play Hearthstone?” How can someone make a sentence like that actually sound _sexy_? He steps closer, and says, “I want to play arena with you.” Keith closes his eyes because he can’t look at Lance anymore. He can feel a heat on his neck and a soft breath in his ear as Lance whispers, “I wanna make an aggro deck with you.”

Keith can’t help it-- a little moan resonates in the back of his throat. He snaps his eyes open in alarm and Lance’s face is regarding him with a wide smirk. “You have a seriously weird kink, dude.” 

Keith punches him in the shoulder-- not too hard, but enough to show his embarrassment. He tries to turn away because he is blushing enough to make him see spots. Lance stops him with a laugh and a hand on his cheek. “I’m joking! Seriously, man, I can’t help it. You’re so… Ugh.” He pulls away and runs two hands through his hair so that it sticks up in random places. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Lance looks so happy, and Keith can’t keep scowling. All he ever wanted was to hear him laugh, and the sound is filling him up like a warm meal. “I’m sorry I’m such a problem,” he says quietly. “I just… want to be friends.”

“OK, now you _are_ being a problem. Friends? Really, Keith? Do you hate me that much?” Keith can’t tell if Lance is joking again, because his smile is weak and he’s looking intently at Keith again.

“I-- I don’t hate you!”

“That’s a start.”

“Seriously, Lance.” Keith is starting to feel frustrated again, but it is probably because he’s so bad at explaining himself. He was on the verge of being really, truly courageous, here. Why couldn’t Lance give him a break? “I practically _idolized_ you for a month. Meeting you was a big fucking deal! Of _course_ I want to be your friend. I want to be everything for you.”

“Everything?”

Keith hates how hard it is for him to talk. “Damnit, Lance. I don’t know how to say it, OK? I want to get to know you. I want to be around you.”

Lance raises his hands and takes Keith on either side of his face, just below his ears. “Please, I need to hear it.” His voice is slow and husky and he won’t break eye contact.

Keith can’t look away. He’s standing over a pot of molten lava and all he has to do is take one small step to fall into the inferno. He teeters for a moment, because there’s no going back after this. After a long pause, he parts his lips. “Kiss me.”

Lance obliges him. He pulls Keith’s face toward his own and the kiss as deep as the ocean. Keith is clutching at the front of Lance’s shirt and when Lance pulls away for a breath he kisses him back. Kisses that start soft are becoming breathier and busier, as tongues and hands get involved. Keith falls into the wall of the hallway and Lance pins him there until they both come up for air.

“Holy shit,” Lance breathes, his forehead pressed to Keith’s. “You don’t know how many times I have imagined doing that.”

If Keith could flush more, he would. “Not just me then, huh?” Lance laughs again and Keith pulls him into a fierce hug that Lance returns with gusto. 

Lance feeds Keith curry that night, because Keith forgot to eat dinner again. They talk about Hearthstone and about how stupid they’ve both been and how things are going to be at work. Lance teases Keith about how much he blushes and Keith is critical of how mild the curry is. When they are done, the rain has subsided and Keith declares quite vehemently that he is going home. 

“But you’ll stay some other time, right?” Lance asks. “I mean, if you’re just playing video games you might as well do it here.”

Keith is the one who wants to stay, but he’s trying not to rush headlong into anything. Lord, does he want to rush. “Yeah, whatever. Maybe tomorrow.” Lance looks thoroughly pleased with that answer. 

They kiss on the doorstep again in the growing darkness of the night. They agree to do lunch tomorrow and bid each other goodnight. Keith nearly trips down the front steps. He hobbles home, light headed and in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fffffff i dont want this to be the end but I think it is??
> 
> soooooo desperately want to write a smutty sequel IF YOU THINK I SHOULD SEND ME MESSAGESSS

**Author's Note:**

> find me at lanceylanceface on tumblr and SCREAM AT ME because I live for that nonsense


End file.
